Nice? Zander had been the picture of niceness during their last little rendezvous. He’d given Lacroix multiple opportunities to leave, he’d left his bedroom door wide open to give Lacroix an easy escape route, and Zander hadn’t taken advantage of him in his weakened state, even though he could have. He practically deserved a medal for his good behavior.
“You think this is manhandling?” Zander asked, amused - in his mind, he’d barely touched Lacroix. Rubbing his shoulders and caressing his hair were the mildest actions imaginable. “I could show you manhandling if you asked real polite.”
His words weren't meant to be taken seriously; he assumed Lacroix wouldn’t agree to anything more than another bite - and that was still fine with Zander. Taking blood was pleasurable for him too, and the weird little trip that came with drinking Lacroix’s blood in particular was an interesting shift from the norm.
“You just tell me where you want it,” Zander granted, giving Lacroix all the power in the decision with the intent to make him feel more at ease. He took a quick second to tuck his own dark hair behind his ear, out of the way, before his fingertips found their way to Lacroix’s neck again. “And when you want it. Deal?"
"Admittedly I don't have a lot of reference for that, no." Lacroix admitted, not that he really wanted to weigh his lack of social life and existence as a recluse and air it out even more so for the world, and people he knew, to scrutinize it. "I'm guessing that word is a little less friendly with ah...undead people. Or..whatever."
Well, it was always a good indication he was in over his head in a conversation when he was awkwardly stumbling over words and trying not to be too obvious about it. Which always failed, he was about as subtle as a car crash in most everything he attempted.
"I thought that already counted," he argued with a weak laugh, then blinked when Zander's hands settled back to his skin. "..okay, that sounds wrong. Thanks. I needed that right now." Zander was not nearly as helpful as he thought himself to be right then, which was likely the point.
He sighed and flopped back, shoulders rattling against the wall of the vampire's chest as he gave up one sanity, life, and all other things normal for the evening. "You win, my brain has died from stress, weirdness and dead guys with questionable morals."
Questionable morals… that sounded about right to Zander. But who needed morals anyway? People who were stuffy and boring and innocent clung to them, and Zander was none of those.
“You’ll forget all that stress when I’m done with you,” came his little whispered promise. Well, at least for a while that stress would be forgotten -- and maybe that’s what kept Lacroix coming back here, knowing Zander could put him in a thoughtless state, even for just a few moments. He couldn’t fix all of Lacroix’s problems, no, but he could certainly make them all go away for the rest of the night.
Lacroix hadn’t exactly said ‘go ahead and bite me,’ but his shift to settle back against Zander made him seem agreeable enough to the idea. Zander curled an arm around the front of Lacroix’s shoulders, not to force him to stay close, but just to hold him steady should the mage choose to remain near. If Lacroix panicked and wanted out last minute, Zander wouldn’t make any move to stop that.
But he hoped Lacroix wouldn’t stop him, because being so close to drinking blood now was exciting a very primal urge inside of him. “Just relax,” Zander coached, trying to keep Lacroix warmed up to the idea. Years of practice gave him the accuracy to sink his teeth into someone’s neck without fracturing a major artery, but he used his free hand to hold Lacroix’s jaw in place anyway with a gentle pressure. If Lacroix didn’t make any protest, he’d use those sharp teeth of his to sink into the skin there -- the whole idea felt incredibly scandalous, a shared secret between the two of them that Hector could never find out about.
“You think this is manhandling?” Zander asked, amused - in his mind, he’d barely touched Lacroix. Rubbing his shoulders and caressing his hair were the mildest actions imaginable. “I could show you manhandling if you asked real polite.”
His words weren't meant to be taken seriously; he assumed Lacroix wouldn’t agree to anything more than another bite - and that was still fine with Zander. Taking blood was pleasurable for him too, and the weird little trip that came with drinking Lacroix’s blood in particular was an interesting shift from the norm.
“You just tell me where you want it,” Zander granted, giving Lacroix all the power in the decision with the intent to make him feel more at ease. He took a quick second to tuck his own dark hair behind his ear, out of the way, before his fingertips found their way to Lacroix’s neck again. “And when you want it. Deal?"
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Well, it was always a good indication he was in over his head in a conversation when he was awkwardly stumbling over words and trying not to be too obvious about it.
Which always failed, he was about as subtle as a car crash in most everything he attempted.
"I thought that already counted," he argued with a weak laugh, then blinked when Zander's hands settled back to his skin. "..okay, that sounds wrong. Thanks. I needed that right now."
Zander was not nearly as helpful as he thought himself to be right then, which was likely the point.
He sighed and flopped back, shoulders rattling against the wall of the vampire's chest as he gave up one sanity, life, and all other things normal for the evening. "You win, my brain has died from stress, weirdness and dead guys with questionable morals."
Reply
“You’ll forget all that stress when I’m done with you,” came his little whispered promise. Well, at least for a while that stress would be forgotten -- and maybe that’s what kept Lacroix coming back here, knowing Zander could put him in a thoughtless state, even for just a few moments. He couldn’t fix all of Lacroix’s problems, no, but he could certainly make them all go away for the rest of the night.
Lacroix hadn’t exactly said ‘go ahead and bite me,’ but his shift to settle back against Zander made him seem agreeable enough to the idea. Zander curled an arm around the front of Lacroix’s shoulders, not to force him to stay close, but just to hold him steady should the mage choose to remain near. If Lacroix panicked and wanted out last minute, Zander wouldn’t make any move to stop that.
But he hoped Lacroix wouldn’t stop him, because being so close to drinking blood now was exciting a very primal urge inside of him. “Just relax,” Zander coached, trying to keep Lacroix warmed up to the idea. Years of practice gave him the accuracy to sink his teeth into someone’s neck without fracturing a major artery, but he used his free hand to hold Lacroix’s jaw in place anyway with a gentle pressure. If Lacroix didn’t make any protest, he’d use those sharp teeth of his to sink into the skin there -- the whole idea felt incredibly scandalous, a shared secret between the two of them that Hector could never find out about.
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